


Knock-Down, Drag-Out

by Laylah



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Best Friends, M/M, New Game Plus Challenge, Post-Canon, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-29
Updated: 2010-03-29
Packaged: 2017-10-08 12:32:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There's a -- there <i>used</i> to be a place sort of like this in the Lower Quarter," he says. "The knights have shut it down now, but we used to go down there sometimes when we were younger." He shrugs. "There was prize money for the fights, and people would bet on them, too."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knock-Down, Drag-Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moontyger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moontyger/gifts).



With the improved relations between the Empire and the Guilds, it's actually not too hard for Flynn to see Yuri, assuming either of them can find free time. Yuri shows up to the castle in Zaphias when he's between jobs, and Flynn takes ships to Dahngrest when he has time off; it works pretty decently. Some of his soldiers still look at him a little strangely when he leaves, heading into the Guild capital -- well, as close as anything comes to one; the Guild officially doesn't centralize its power that much -- in civilian clothes. Still, enough of them made friends when they were stationed in Nordopolica that it doesn't seem too unusual.

Brave Vesperia has a guild hall near the Union Headquarters now, though really Flynn thinks calling it a "hall" is a little grand; their guild only has four members, counting Repede, and enough space to match. Still, it's a nice little house, with a kitchen that Yuri's prone to showing off in, and he seems happy whenever Flynn visits. They're both doing pretty well lately, to be honest.

Flynn opens the front door to the guild house and ducks inside. "Yuri?" he calls.

Repede barks in greeting, and a moment later he's ambling down the stairs, tail swishing behind him. He comes up to sit in front of Flynn, staring up at him meaningfully.

"It's good to see you, too, Repede," Flynn says, kneeling so he can give Repede a proper skritch behind the ears. "What's Yuri up to tonight?"

Repede whines, cocking one ear back to suggest that Yuri's doing something he doesn't approve of. Flynn raises an eyebrow -- he hadn't thought Yuri was getting into that much trouble these days.

"He's gone out to the fights," Judith says. Flynn looks up, and then just as quickly looks down again, because she's standing in the hallway dripping wet in nothing but a towel.

"J-Judith," he says. His cheeks feel hot. "Sorry to, ah, barge in on you like this."

She laughs. "You're cute," she says. "And I don't mind. Karol's out with his girlfriend tonight, and Yuri went to the fights, so it's been pretty quiet around here."

"Fights, huh?" Flynn says, still not looking up. "Like a tournament?"

Judith hums. "Something like that," she says. "If you'd like, I could take you over to see them. Just give me a minute to get dressed."

Flynn nods. "Thank you," he says. "Ah, take your time."

She doesn't take very long; Flynn sits in the front room with Repede, and he's only there for just long enough to get comfortable before she's back. Flynn climbs to his feet, shrugging his overnight bag off his shoulders.

"Can you take this up to Yuri's room for me?" he says, handing his bag to Repede. "We'll bring him home soon."

Repede barks his agreement and picks the bag up carefully.

"He certainly does like you," Judith says as she opens the front door.

Flynn smiles. "I'm glad he still remembers me," he says. "At first I was afraid he wouldn't, since I didn't get to see him much after Yuri left the knights."

"Maybe you're just especially memorable," Judith says, giving him a little sidelong smile. The teasing is much easier to take when she has clothes on, Flynn thinks.

"I guess that helps me out with both of them," he says, and Judith laughs.

She takes him across town, down a little side street that doesn't have any of the ornate architecture of the main trading quarter. Their destination is a pub, from the looks of it, with its entrance down a short flight of stairs from street level. There's loud, raucous noise from inside as soon as Judith opens the door, and it smells like smoke and spilled beer. Flynn follows Judith inside, through the crowds -- mostly members of the more mercenary-focused Guilds, if Flynn's reading them right -- toward the back where most of the people are gathered.

The ring is a low, haphazardly-built wall, no more than about waist high, and there's a lantern hung right over the middle to illuminate the fighters. Right now that means Yuri, lean and bare-chested, facing off against some guy about twice his size.

"This sure takes me back," Flynn says. How long has it been?

"Oh?" Judith says, glancing over at him.

Flynn nods. "There's a -- there _used_ to be a place sort of like this in the Lower Quarter," he says. "The knights have shut it down now, but we used to go down there sometimes when we were younger." He shrugs. "There was prize money for the fights, and people would bet on them, too."

"Must have been a good way to make money, for someone like Yuri," Judith says. She's watching the ring, and mostly so is Flynn -- Yuri takes a hit to the jaw and stumbles, but he comes back grinning, that _now things are getting interesting_ expression he gets when he's really enjoying a fight.

"He had a pretty good time, yeah," Flynn says. Yuri's opponent is overextending himself pretty badly. This probably won't last much longer. "But if we were doing it because we needed money --"

Yuri drops the guy fighting him with one more good punch, and the crowd roars. Flynn watches Yuri's face, sees the moment when he looks disappointed, before he takes the drink somebody offers him from the crowd. He drinks, hands the glass back carelessly, rolls his shoulders. He didn't have muscle like that back when they did pit fights in the Lower Quarter.

"Who's next?" Yuri calls as the crowd noise starts to calm, as the big guy's friends drag him out of the ring. "Come on, the night is young! Doesn't somebody here want to show me a good time?"

People shuffle, and the noise doesn't really die down, but nobody's stepping up right away. Flynn shakes his head.

"Yuri was obviously a troublemaker," he says. "I was the innocent-looking one." How long _has_ it been? The Coliseum in Nordopolica was different. Still good, but different. "If we needed money, _I_ would fight, and Yuri would bet on me."

"Come on, guys," Yuri says. "None of you have what it takes?"

Flynn peels his shirt off. "Can you hold this for me?"

Judith arches one eyebrow. "Who should I bet on?" she says.

"Up to you," Flynn says. "Who do you think is going to win?" He pushes through the crowd, up to the front, and vaults into the ring.

The stunned look on Yuri's face only lasts for a second, but it's so worth it. "Flynn!" he says.

"You talk pretty big," Flynn says, grinning. "But can you fight?"

Yuri's smile is fierce and wild and completely gorgeous. "Bring it _on_, pretty boy."

Flynn's out of practice, but some things you don't forget. He brings his hands up to ready, curled loosely, not quite fists. Yuri leads with his left, and that throws a lot of people off, but Flynn's used to him. He also _has_ a strong right, and that always caught people by surprise once they thought they had him figured out.

They circle each other for a minute, as the noise of the crowd fades to meaningless buzz at the edges of Flynn's perception and he watches Yuri's stance for tells. There's a smudge of blood at the corner of Yuri's lip, but he's moving easily, not hurt anywhere that's going to slow him down. "Come on," he says, spreading his hands in a take-your-best-shot gesture. "I'm not here to dance with you."

"No?" Flynn says. He's not going to be baited, not this time. "Even if I let you lead?"

Yuri's eyebrows shoot up. "_Let_ me?" he says. "That's it." He steps in close, fast, uncoiling into a punch. Flynn shrugs back, doesn't try too hard to block that one, because he's expecting the follow-up on the other side -- he blocks _that_ so it can't wind him, and throws a punch of his own in return. His knuckles just graze Yuri's jaw; Yuri's gotten _fast_.

They trade punches back and forth a few times like that, closing for quick flurries and backing off. Yuri lands one really good one that splits Flynn's lip, and Flynn manages to return the favor by giving Yuri the start of an impressive black eye, but neither of them is really in bad shape. And it's _exciting_, facing off like this -- just for the fun of it, with people cheering for them, with no consequences more serious than losing bragging rights. Flynn finds himself returning Yuri's smile, split lip and all. He doesn't have to hold back with Yuri, never has. They're a good match, strong enough to really challenge each other, and if he ever starts to relax too much --

The next time they close with each other, Yuri doesn't swing so much as _tackle_, and Flynn hits the floor with the breath knocked out of him, rolling to throw Yuri to one side. "Hey!" he says.

Yuri laughs. "What, did you think we were fighting by imperial rules?" he says.

"My mistake," Flynn says, and dives for him.

It's a sloppier fight on the ground, all knees and elbows and the hard flex of muscle as Yuri struggles against him. Flynn's breathless from the exertion and from the giddy laughter that keeps rising up in his throat. His hands slip on Yuri's bare skin, sweat slicking them both so it's hard to get a grip. Still, he has the upper hand, he's pretty sure -- he rolls them over again, knocking Yuri into the wall, and that ought to be the end of it -- only Yuri catches him one last wild blow to the temple as he's rebounding, and Flynn drops with him.

They lie collapsed in a heap on the floor, while Flynn watches the lantern overhead spin slowly in his vision. After a minute Yuri starts to laugh, and Flynn can't help joining in.

"What do you think?" Yuri asks. "Call that a draw?"

Flynn nods, and then thinks maybe he shouldn't have. "Sounds about right," he says.

Yuri levers himself awkwardly into a sitting position and reaches out to help Flynn up, too. They're both a little dizzy, but they manage to stagger out of the ring by leaning on each other for balance. "Just like old times, huh?" Yuri says as he steers them toward a bench by the pub's back wall.

"Yeah," Flynn says happily. He slumps down on the bench, pulling Yuri down next to him. "You should have a gel or two. You hit your head pretty hard there at the end."

"Me?" Yuri says, but he digs in his pockets all the same. "You look a little the worse for wear yourself." He comes up with a gel, pops it in his mouth, and leans over to press his lips to Flynn's.

The sweet taste of apples bursts between them, and Flynn kisses back, feeling the aches and bruised spots ease as they pass the gel back and forth. When the last of it is gone, he pulls back. "We never used to do _that_ part in public."

Yuri shrugs. "Yeah, well, we're big kids now," he says. He looks down. "So, where'd you leave your clothes? As much as I like the idea of you just walking around Dahngrest like that, I don't really see it happening."

"No," Flynn says. "Me neither. I left my shirt with -- oh, there she is now." He waves as Judith makes her way through the crowd and over to them.

"That was an exciting fight," she says with a smile. She hands Flynn his shirt. "I think I owe you both dinner."

"Oh yeah?" Yuri says.

Judith nods, holding up a fat coin purse. "I won the bet," she says. "I think I was the only one."

Yuri laughs. "Can't argue with that," he says. "Let me just collect my stuff, and we'll get going." He glances over at Flynn. "Assuming that's okay with you?"

"Sounds great," Flynn says. "Let's go."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Nights Like These](https://archiveofourown.org/works/169836) by [Cephy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cephy/pseuds/Cephy)




End file.
